Azalea wanted to argue.

She wanted to drag him out of there by force if she had to.

But she recognized that look; she had seen it before. And it scared her.

When Zayden set his mind on something, nothing could change it.

"You’re unbelievable," she said.

"I learned from the best," Zayden shot back.

Even with everything going on, Azalea couldn’t help but smile a bit. She looked at his wound again. "Can I at least check it—"

"It’s just a scratch," Zayden said. "Yeah, it bled a lot and looks worse than it really is."

"That’s not just a scratch. That’s—"

"Zaria." He put his hand on her shoulder. "I’m good, I promise. It hurts, but I’m not about to kick the bucket. Okay?"

She stared into his eyes and saw the truth there. He was in pain, probably a lot of it, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Not even close.

He was Hazard King, the head of the mafia and king of the underworld. He’d been through worse and came out alive.

Azalea took a deep breath. "Fine. But the second this is over, you’re getting in an ambulance."

"Deal," Zayden said.

He turned back to Alpha and Maksim, who were both watching and listening intently.

Alpha was holding onto his shoulder, while Maksim looked after his messed-up hand.

They were trapped, beaten.

Out in the open.

Their empire was a total wreck.

Everyone knew about their crimes. The whole world was watching.

Their names were all over every wanted list out there.

There was no way out.

No kindness.

No chances.

Zayden aimed his rifle at Alpha’s head again.

Alpha looked up, blood dripping down his face where his mask had fallen off.

Michael Arthur. Unmasked. In the spotlight. Done for.

"Please," Alpha said quietly. "Please. I can give you anything. Everything. Just let me—"

"I don’t want anything from you," Zayden shot back.

His finger tightened on the trigger.

Azalea stood next to him, watching and waiting, ready for whatever was about to happen.

The vibe in the room was tense.

Seventy-three guilty men were just waiting to see if Hazard King would pull the trigger.

Would justice happen with a bullet? Or through the law?

Zayden’s finger was resting on the trigger.

Just a little pressure. That’s all it would take.

One tiny movement, and Alpha Dark would be out of the picture, for good.

*****

The apartment was small but comfy.

It had one bedroom, a basic kitchen, and a living room with a leather couch and a flat-screen TV.

Nothing fancy. Nothing that stood out.

It was the kind of place a man picked when he wanted some peace, when he just wanted to be left alone.

He was sitting on the couch, remote in hand, flipping through channels.

In his late fifties, he was still in good shape and sharp as ever.

His dark hair showed some gray at the sides. He was clean-shaven, with a rugged face that hinted at a tough life but not a broken one.

His eyes had seen a lot, been through things, and dealt with some loss.

He moved to Istanbul three years ago after his wife died.

After everything fell apart.

After he realized there was nothing for him back in the States.

Turkey felt right to him, it kind of felt like home in a way that America never did.

Maybe it was the memories here; the good ones, the ones before everything went wrong.

He flipped through channels without thinking.

Turkish soap opera.

Click.

Cooking show.

Click.

News. CNN Türk.

He paused there.

The anchor spoke quickly, like something big was going down.

"—breaking news. A huge trafficking operation has been discovered in the U.S. Evidence is being shown around the world—"

The man leaned in a bit, curious but not really worried.

Then the screen switched.

It showed files, papers, and pictures of crimes that went on for years.

Then a face popped up.

A man with a golden mask.

The mask came off.

In that moment, the man on the couch went completely still.

Totally.

The remote slipped from his hand and clattered onto the coffee table.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

That face.

Michael Arthur.

Alpha Dark.

The anchor kept talking: "—identified as the head of an international child trafficking ring. Evidence shows decades of crimes, including money laundering, murder, and political corruption—"

The man barely took it in.

His mind raced back in time.

Five years.

Five years ago.

When everything changed.

When his best friend?

No.

He couldn’t let himself think of that name.

He couldn’t let himself remember.

But the memory stuck around, sharp, clear, and painful.

Two names.

Two faces he’d tried so hard to forget.

The man who had been like a brother to him.

The woman who was brilliant, fierce, and unstoppable.

Both are gone now.

One for twelve years. One for five.

And Michael Arthur—Alpha Dark—was tied to both.

He knew it. He’d always known.

He just could never prove it.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the news.

Files were flashing on the screen: bank accounts, shipment details, and photos of the victims.

So many victims.

It made his stomach turn.

He always knew Michael Arthur was a bad guy.

But this—

This was way worse than he ever expected.

Ten minutes went by, and he just sat there. Didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

He kept watching as the whole empire fell apart, the crimes came to light, and justice, finally, started to happen.

Then a thought hit him hard.

Who pulled this off?

Who had the skills to break into Michael Arthur’s systems?

Who had the guts to expose him?

Who had the resources to gather all this evidence and send it out everywhere?

Three years ago, someone tried to do just that.

A hacker named Lunel.

He had broken into systems, revealed some operations, and stirred up a lot of chaos.

The man had tracked that story closely.

He really hoped, more than anything, that Lunel would finish what he started.

But Lunel had disappeared.